


ghouls just wanna have fun

by whitchbhitch



Category: Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Different First Meeting, Ghosts, Humor, M/M, Pre-Slash
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-30
Updated: 2020-01-30
Packaged: 2021-02-27 04:35:46
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,131
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22471168
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/whitchbhitch/pseuds/whitchbhitch
Summary: "So you're hiring me, not because anyone has died, or even been hurt, but because this thing... annoys you.""We know it sounds silly. But you try waking up every night to that thing's compositions and see how long you last."There's a mysterious, gorgeous tenor voice emanating from a nearby tower. Geralt is hired to investigate, but he might be signing up for more than he realizes.
Relationships: Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Jaskier | Dandelion
Comments: 22
Kudos: 615





	ghouls just wanna have fun

**Author's Note:**

  * Translation into 中文-普通话 國語 available: [【中文翻译】ghouls just wanna have fun/恶灵们只是想玩个开心](https://archiveofourown.org/works/22907083) by [OopsWhereDidMyNameGo](https://archiveofourown.org/users/OopsWhereDidMyNameGo/pseuds/OopsWhereDidMyNameGo)



> Have I read the Witcher books? No! 
> 
> Did I play the video game? No! 
> 
> Have I made it through more than three episodes of the TV show? No! 
> 
> Did I do any research for this? Yes, but barely! 
> 
> This might not be how """ghosts""" """work""" in the """Witcher universe""" but do I care about that? Of course not! I thought this would be funny! That's IT, baby!

Geralt got hired because of the singing. 

"It's driving us all fucking crazy," griped the man across from him at the table. He'd heaved himself down into the chair across from Geralt and slid a single coin across the table, leaving it to rest just before Geralt's ale mug. A woman came up to stand behind him, wringing her hands and not looking Geralt in the eye. People reacted differently when they needed help from witchers. Some put on bravado, a sort of _you don't scare me_ attitude that was betrayed by the sweat on their brow and just the slightest tremble in their voice.

Some didn't pretend, didn't try to trick him. They were afraid of him, and like rabbits hunkering down as a wolf walked past, they just hoped that a creature so dangerous would pass them on for better prey.

Geralt didn't prefer either. They were both fucking annoying.

"There's more coin where that came from if you'll listen to me," the man had said, nodding his head. Geralt, who had been very much looking forward to drinking some ale, eating some soup, and going upstairs to sleep in a real bed, had sighed deeply and sat back. More coin certainly wouldn't hurt his pocket, though. He nodded his head, curt.

"It's coming from the old abandoned castle to the North. The king had to move out because of it, build a whole new castle. Raised the taxes that year, which was no gift to us," the man griped. "Now we're stuck here with that thing, while he gets to move halfway across the country to escape it."

"What thing?" asked Geralt.

"We don't know," said the woman, barely above a whisper. "It always happens at night, but beyond that, we don't know."

"What happens?" asked Geralt.

"The singing," the woman whispered. "It sings all night. You can hear it for miles."

"None of us have gotten a good night's sleep in years," huffed the man. 

"Does it lure people to the castle? Kill them?" asked Geralt, trying to think through all the singing monsters he'd ever heard of. Sirens were almost always found near the sea, or at least large bodies of water, but the largest body of water around here for miles was probably some little frog pond. 

"No," said the man. "It just sings and bloody sings. Won't shut up. Closest it's come to hurting someone is when Warrick, the butcher's son, finally had enough. He went up to the castle with his father's biggest knife, waving it around, threatening the thing to stop singing or he'd kill it. He said it felt like a strong wind had pushed him, or some such. Pushed him right out the door, and they'd slammed shut behind him."

"So you're hiring me, not because anyone has died, or even been hurt, but because this thing... annoys you."

"We know it sounds silly," said the woman, real strength in her voice for the first time. "But you try waking up every night to that thing's compositions and see how long you last."

"We'll give you this much to go there and kill it, tonight," said the man, raising a bag full of coins. 

Geralt sighed, looked down at his mug of ale. He drained it to the dregs and slammed it down on the table, snatched the coin purse from the man's hand. 

So much for sleeping in a bed tonight.

\--

Geralt entered the castle through the front gates. They were grand, but clearly unused for years, and they creaked as he pushed them open. He didn't think he'd need the element of surprise to deal with whatever this thing is, if the worst it can muster is a strong wind. The sun was just nearly below the horizon as he tied Roach to a pillar in the front courtyard, patted her on the flank.

"I'm headed in, girl," he said. "Don't wait up."

Roach snorted and bent her head down to lip at some grass sprouting up from between the cobblestones.

Geralt, hand on his sword, stepped into the castle. It wasn't as bad off as some abandoned castles he'd been in--by the looks of the cobwebs, it' had been empty two years at most. As the door swung shut behind him, the sun slipped beneath the horizon, and he heard it:

" _La la la la la la la!"_ the voice sang through its scales. Geralt recognized the tune from the bards he'd heard at taverns all across the Continent. It was a warm up exercise. 

_"La la la la la la la!"_ the voice sang again, one octave higher. It was echoing through the halls, just on the wrong side of unpleasantly loud.

" _La la la la la la la!"_ One octave higher, again. It was male, a throaty tenor, and, Geralt had to admit, not entirely unpleasant to listen to.

" _La la la la la la la!"_ The voice cracked on the last one, and quickly cut off with what sounded like an embarrassed mumble. Before long, though, it resurfaced, launching into a lusty ballad, seemingly of its own composition, about a bored noblewoman and a handsome stablehand. After the voice rhymed bosom with bosom, twice in a row, Geralt had to admit that this was. Bad. It was very bad. He understood the townspeople now.

The problem was that the voice seemed to be echoing from everywhere and nowhere all at once. Geralt couldn't manage to track it down, even with his advanced senses. In the time he took searching, the voice managed to entertain him with a song about boar hunting that Geralt was pretty sure was a metaphor for sex, and a song about flower arranging which Geralt was positively certain was a metaphor for sex. When the voice began a song about yet _another_ young beautiful noble, this time the son of a duke in love with a statue, Geralt knows two things. One, he was pretty sure the song was going to end with the nobleman trying to fuck the statue, and two, all this random searching was getting him nowhere. He had to figure out another way to locate this thing.

Geralt thought back to what he knew about ghosts. Ghosts tended to haunt the place they died, or an object involved in their death. The more powerful a ghost, the farther it could stray from its focal point. Due to the fact that this ghost never left the castle, Geralt guessed that it wasn't particularly powerful. If he were a lusty bard, where would he have been killed?

The bedrooms, obviously.

He went through the bedrooms one by one, and lucked out on the fourth try. The ghost was facing away from him, lounging on a chair by the window and gazing out across the fields. Geralt slid his sword out of it's sheath, and crouched down, walking silently towards the semi-transparent figure. Just before he swung his sword down, the ghost whipped around, its eyes wide. It screamed, and flied up to hover by the ceiling, where Geralt can't reach.

"What are you doing in the castle?" asked the ghost, frantic.

"What are _you_ doing in the castle?" 

The ghost was indignant. "I live here!"

"That's the problem I've been hired to solve."

The ghost's eyes widened. "Oh, you're a witcher! Oh, _fantastic_!" The ghost clapped his hands, the impact not making any sound whatsoever. Geralt couldn't help but notice the ghosts handsome face. He was a lot better looking than most ghosts Geralt has met. He was transparent now, but Geralt caught himself wondering what color his eyes had been when he was alive. He shook himself. Focus.

"You can help free me!" said the ghost, rushing towards Geralt. Geralt raised his sword, just a little, and the ghost backed off. Was he... pouting? 

"I can free you by killing you, and getting my money."

"Well, there's no need to be rude," said the ghost, frowning. "And my name is Jaskier, since you haven't even the manners to introduce yourself."

Geralt begrudgingly grunted out, "Geralt of Rivia."

"Well, then, Geralt of Rivia. How about, instead of killing me, you help free me? You can still get your money from the townspeople, because you'll have gotten rid of me—which, by the way, I cannot believe that they disliked my singing so much they sent someone up here to _kill me_ —and you'll not have to kill an innocent ghost who never hurt anyone. My only crime was being horribly and unfairly murdered."

"Hm." Geralt considered it. It was true that Jaskier had never hurt anyone, and as long as Geralt got rid of him for good, the townspeople wouldn't need to know that he'd only freed the ghost, not killed it. He would get paid the same.

"Alright," said Geralt. "How did you die." 

Jaskier pursed his lips. If Geralt didn't know better, he would say the specter looked embarrassed. "I... was hired to entertain the king's son. And, look, I entertained him. You can't say what we were doing wasn't entertaining. And because of my... ingenuity, I was beheaded!" Jaskier grabbed his hair at the top of his head and pulled his own head clean off. "Look! Look at that! My beautiful neck!"

Geralt read between the lines. "You were executed for fucking a prince."

Geralt could tell now. Jaskier was definitely pouting. "If you want to be pedestrian about it, fine," said the ghost, replacing his head. "I still don't think I deserved it. The man was fully grown, he could make his own decisions. It takes two to tango, if you will."

Geralt suppressed a growl. He couldn't wait until he could banish this thing. "How do I free you."

"I like how you make questions sound like statements. Very versatile."

Geralt brandished his sword. 

"Alright, alright! My lute. It's down in the vaults. They have powerful warding there, I can't get to it."

Geralt grunted and turned, walked out the door. Jaskier followed, all the time chattering on. Geralt had never wished to be able to punch a ghost more. He didn't want to hurt the thing. Just shut him up.

"Here we are!" exclaimed Jaskier, coming to a stop at the end of a long hallway. "It should honestly just be open, they brought every treasure with them except my lute when they left. I just can't move past the wards."

Geralt cautiously pushed at the door. It swung open with a gentle creak. There, in the corner of the enormous empty vault room, was a lute. Geralt crossed the chamber, his feet echoing on the stone, and grabbed the lute. He had to admit that it was finely made. He walked back across the threshold , and held it out to Jaskier.

"Oh, my baby!" said Jaskier, and grabbed it from Geralt's hand. As Jaskier touched it, the lute turned spectral, and Jaskier held it close to himself and strummed a few chords. They both winced. After however many years, the lute was jarringly out of tune. 

Geralt looked at Jaskier, cradling the lute to him like it was his own child as he tuned it. 

"Why aren't you gone." 

Jaskier winced. "Don't be angry, alright? Freeing me is sort of a two step process. The lute was step one."

"...What's step two." 

"I have to travel with you and sing songs of your great deeds."

Geralt knew that his fist would sail right through Jaskiers face when he tried to punch him, but it felt good to try anyway.

Jaskier squawked. "I never went anywhere when I was alive! I never had any real things to base my songs on! That's why they never reached their full potential!"

"You mean, that's why they're so bad."

"Okay, first of all? Rude. Second of all, if you want to get rid of me, you _have_ to take me with you."

Geralt unsheathed his sword. "Or I could just kill you."

"Hey, hey, hey! I'm just an innocent ghost, witcher. Surely you wouldn't kill a blameless creature who's never hurt anyone? I'm a little lamb. A turtledove. I've never hurt a fly."

Geralt rubbed at his temples. It was true that his conscience wasn't entirely clear, killing a man who's greatest crime was... being annoying. Hopefully, Jaskier would experience one of Geralt's "adventures", find them not to his taste, and fade out of existence. Geralt groaned that he was even considering this, but.

"One monster. You can come with me while I kill one monster. But after that, we're done."

"Yes!" cried Jaskier. He started to whizz down the hallway. "This is going to be so much fun. Geralt, you're not going to regret this!"

"I doubt it," muttered Geralt, as he followed. 

**Author's Note:**

> Please leave comments and kudos if you enjoyed!


End file.
